


Lady and the Sea

by twocupsoftea



Category: WKRP in Cincinnati
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24984715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twocupsoftea/pseuds/twocupsoftea
Summary: Bailey's got a complicated past, as previously alluded to in "A Girl, Her Show, and the Radio". Set before season 1.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Lady and the Sea

She couldn’t stop replaying the conversation. Over and over and over and over. Maybe deep in her heart, she knew something like this was coming. 

***

“Ms. Quarters, why don’t you have a seat?” The professor had motioned to the blue dotted upholstered chair in front of his desk.

She nodded, mute with nerves, and sank into the chair, clutching the plastic armrests. 

“Ms. Quarters,” he began again, “let’s have a look at this file of yours, shall we?” He opened the manilla folder, and pulled out several papers, heavy cardstock, overdone letterhead. 

_This was her dream._

He focused on the top paper for an agonizingly long moment, before pushing it across the table. Bailey tried to keep her hand steady as she pulled it closer. She looked down at the little black letters, but the markings swam together. She looked up at the professor, feeling goosebumps break out across the back of her neck. 

_She had made it past all of the hard parts._

His gaze felt heavy. She looked back up at him, trying to make sense of what she already knew. 

“Ms. Quarters, part of the Pritzker medical program’s prestige comes from the challenges associated with the program. Our students are accepted for residencies at a high rate, because they know we’ve already weeded out--er-- _forced_ our students to prove themselves.”

Bailey bowed her head, letting her bangs fall in her face. Her fingers trembled in her lap, beyond control. 

“These are not easy conversations to have, Ms. Quarters.” He sighed. “However, at this point, we have to look at the evidence we have. You’ve really struggled this past semester, judging by these marks. And your rotations were unremarkable, at best. There’s an incident from back in October here that especially causes me some concern.”

Her head shot up. That day in October was a blur. So much of this was like an unforgiving obstacle course. Who could take the most abuse, who could show up bright and alert after three hours of sleep, who could stop thinking about the stakes for just a moment, to connect with yet another walking sad story? “Dr. Walsh,” she said, “With all due respect, that was _one day_.”

“Ms. Quarters,” he countered, “One day is in itself entirely too important. One doesn’t earn the Pritzker legacy by collapsing of exhaustion and needing hospitalization herself. How can we trust that you can handle the _rigors_ of this field of work?”

 _Her dream._ Bailey hated the tears beginning to form along her lashes. “I can handle it, sir, just--I just need another semester!” Even to her, it sounded like a desperate plea. 

Dr. Walsh reached behind him and took the tissue box leaning against the window, placed it with disdain on the desk in front of Bailey. “This is another part of the problem, Ms. Quarters. Doctors lose patients. Doctors lose people in their own lives. Doctors deal with tremendous amounts of emotional trauma, and yet somehow manage to not lose their composure when it counts. This, Ms. Quarters, is not an encouraging display.” 

Bailey swallowed, tried to keep her breathing quiet, and then quickly snagged a tissue and looked away. 

“So here is my recommendation, Ms. Quarters: instead of enrolling for the spring, I suggest you save yourself some money, take your--” he paused, looked down at the folder, “your journalism degree, and make something else of yourself. Because, Ms. Quarters, you are on an irreversible trajectory here.” 

***

And now she sat, on the very edge of Lake Michigan, no tears left. It was supposed to be such a wonderful time, celebrating one more semester. Christmas. Defying expectations. 

But yet. 

Here she was, fulfilling expectations. All of the words she had heard, for _years_ , from a father who jumped at every opportunity to prove her wrong. 

Bailey’s life had been a fight. Every step of the way. And here she was, yet again, a stunning loss, sitting on a frigid beach in the middle of December wondering not what was coming next, but instead how to tell her father that she had failed and had fulfilled his prophecy.

She rested her chin on her closed fist, lady and the sea, and closed her eyes against the pounding waves of Lake Michigan.


End file.
